


Wounded Hubris

by Aamartian



Category: Vampire Knight (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Blood, Blood and Gore, Hurt No Comfort, Knifeplay, M/M, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture, Underage Rape/Non-con, Violence, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:08:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23195272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aamartian/pseuds/Aamartian
Summary: Two level E vampires get the better of Senri.
Relationships: Shiki Senri/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 11





	Wounded Hubris

**Author's Note:**

> My first time publishing a thing I've written, and it is very violent. Please be aware and heed the warnings. Any comments or criticisms are welcome.

Senri’s head bounced off red brick, pain blossoming from the point of impact. The hand holding his neck squeezed and pushed. His head collided again, harder. White exploded in his vision, stomach bubbling with nausea. His knees buckled inward when the man kicked at his legs. Trying to swing his hand back, the man gripped his wrist in a vice. The bones creaked under his strength. Senri hissed, teeth gritted as the man use his hair as a handle to slam his head back into the brick. Crack. 

The world was blurry and his mind a highway abuzz with indiscernible thoughts rushing by in whirls of colour. Through the blur he could see a spot of blood on the brick. He lifted his hand to touch, or maybe to steady himself, but his hand wouldn’t lift. How hard had he hit his head? He tried to touch his forehead too, but the man’s fingers were grinding his wrist bones together like a vice. A sound of pain left his lips. 

Pain blossomed from his neck, arm flailing back to grab only to meet that same resistance. His skin vibrated, a snarl leaving the lips of the man attached to his throat. The man drew blood with an intensity he’d hardly felt before. His fingertips grew cold quickly, limply hanging by his sides. Senri hardly realised, but the man’s hands had moved, one tugging his hair to the side, the other with its fingers digging into his neck. Senri drew a breath that struggled to pass the pressure on his throat from the man’s fingers.

“Ungh,” he gasped.

A shadow passed over the sun, another face, undefined. There had been another man, hadn’t there? So quickly his concentration and vision were degrading. The other arranged himself in front of Senri, moving like a vaporous blur, taking the vacant side of Senri’s neck. His fingers splayed over Senri’s collar bone, kneading idly over the place where flesh was warm – the blood in his body being drawn to the neck by their fangs. The hand around his throat was gone, replaced by the other’s mouth. He was having trouble keeping track of the hands. His head was aching sharply, so maybe the man’s fingers were still tangled in his hair? Keeping his head afloat perhaps? The other’s fingers migrated to his cheek, his thumb brushing against Senri’s bottom lip, rubbing. The other hand, he thought, might be on his hip. The man behind him, had one hand above the other man’s hand on his ribs, keeping him steady. The man in front of him palmed his crotch. 

Senri’s brow twitched, hot with pain and blood dribbling lazily into his eye. When did that happen? What? Was that supposed to be there? The man’s hand was rubbing Senri over his jeans, but slowly moving up, then dipping in. Senri’s hand flexed, he could use his whip and fight them off, though it felt like he was wading through molasses. Senri twitched violently, body attempting to dislodge every wandering hand, only to have fangs ripped from his throat. He landed hard, looking up at the sky, clouds spinning grey on white, white on grey. No blue. The man’s snarling face appeared before him, his hand back on Senri’s throat, pressing hard.

"Stay fucking still, fucking whore _noble_.” He growled.

His eyes were black and very cold. The word, _noble_ , spat from his lips like poison. Or perhaps a venom he intended to inject into Senri. Either way, his mocking, hateful tone spoke for itself. The words meant death either way. He lifted Senri’s head only to slam it back down, it bounced like a basketball, his scalp growing sticky and hot. 

The man started opening Senri’s jeans. Senri lifted his head, only for it to be slammed down again. The other man was hovering, smiling. He leaned in and pressed his thumb back against Senri’s lip, sliding in, the tip tickled his tongue and tasted of salt and iron.

“Mmn, no…” he mumbled, voice fighting its way up his throat like gravel.

The man tugged his jeans down his thighs, exposing pale skin to the light. The flesh vulnerable yet numb. Pulling his foot and bending his knee felt like dragging dead weight, like manoeuvring a corpse. He’d never felt more like a puppet tugging itself by strings. The man shoved Senri’s knee back down to pull off his jeans, tearing off his shoes, one sock getting lost as his jean leg was tugged all the way off. Once one leg was free, the man lost patience, snarling, and pushing his legs apart. The other’s thumb was pressed into his tongue, staring down at Senri, irises a thin ring around his pupils. His thighs were cold, tarmac pressing into his bare skin. The one at his head released Senri’s tongue to undo his own fly, while his underwear was tugged down his thighs, joining his jeans. He heard the zips, hands moving to fight them off but could barely think straight. They felt like a single entity, one half lust and the other wrath. 

There was a metallic sound and then –

Senri’s vision went black, a scream trapped behind a hand pressed hastily to his lips. He froze, hands flailing, tears fell from blue eyes so wide and clear one might look right through them, pupils mere pinpricks. He screamed and screamed, writhing, then freezing, spine bowed as the knife was twisted and torn back out of his ass. A long moan ripped from his lips, the palm vibrating with the sound, his nostrils flared. The scent of blood was pungent. 

Senri heard the men speaking through the rush of blood in his ears.

“- was that for?” Said one.

“Gotta get the fucker wet somehow.”

A choked sob bubbled from his throat like blood. His backside was cold yet burning hot and dripping wet. The hand left his mouth and he gasped at the sound of metal again, only it was the man’s fly, not the knife. No please, not again, he thought.

"N-no,” he choked, stuttering pathetically, “don’t.”

He tried to lift, only to fall back from the pain, whining.

“Shh, shh, don’t cry gorgeous. You look so pretty like this.” The other sighed, easing himself from his pants and crowding Senri, “Those lips were made to suck cock.”

Senri sobbed, eyes wild. The man’s fingers pressed into the hinges of his jaw.

“Now don’t bite, or I’ll use that knife to take the skin off your dick.” He smiled.

Senri stared, lips parting as a thumb was once again eased into his mouth.

“Got it, pretty boy?” he cooed.

Senri nodded, the face above him swirling as his stomach tumbled. His head ached, he could feel the wetness on his scalp, matting his hair. He could feel the blood pooling under his thighs and staining his skin with stickiness. 

He felt flesh brush his wound, and he jolted back, crying harder through eyes clenched shut. The man gripped his hips and eased himself into Senri’s body. Senri’s eyes snapped open, wide and unblinking, he couldn’t make a noise, but his lips were parted. The other stared fondly and pressed himself into Senri’s mouth. 

Senri’s face was wet with tears, mouth invaded by flesh pressing back into his throat. He gagged, stomach turning. 

The man at his head pressed in as far as he could go, holding onto Senri’s head, pushing and pulling him on his cock. Senri’s throat seized and his hands sprung up to push him away, only to hold on for dear life as at his other fucking his ass starting thrusting. The vibration of Senri’s scream around his cock caused the man to moan. The fire in his asshole was too much to bear, tears streaming down his cheeks, his throat was vibrating endlessly with sounds of pain. With each snap of his hips, Senri felt closer to falling to pieces. He was on fire. His eyes snapped open – he hadn’t realised that he’d been clenching them shut – as the other pulled out of his throat. He drew a desperate, wet breath. The cock plunged in again, filling the space. Again, and again, they moved in tandem. Filling him, staining him in a way that would never be clean. Not even if he flayed his insides. An itch beneath the skin that wouldn’t leave no matter how much you dragged your fingernails across your flesh. 

The taste filled his saliva, mouth dripping with drool that tasted of the man’s dick – of salty sweat and bitter precum, of body odour and dried urine. The spit dribbled down Senri’s chin and neck. The back of his throat tasted of bile. Snot dripped from his nose and into his mouth. Any breath was short and dragged wetness into his airway. Senri’s face was hot with blood. He couldn’t breathe. He was on fire. His throat spasmed, stomach turning, as his gag reflex was teased into vomiting. He choked around the man’s cock, but he didn’t cease his thrusting, grip on Senri’s head a vice. The other man didn’t stop pounding even when the smell of vomit and blood permeated the air. Even as it wettened his crotch. 

The man at his head moaned, cock spasming as he came in down Senri’s throat, pulling out halfway through cumming to leave the rest to splatter his tongue, then his snot, tear, blood and vomit stained face. Senri cried, a whimper leaving his lips. The man merely laughed, pulling away to watch. 

The man fucking his ass used the opportunity to tug at Senri’s body, a puppet with cut strings. Senri’s hole was burning hot and burning cold. He could feel the blood bubbling around the man’s cock as air was pushed in with his thrusts. He tugged Senri’s hips, pulling up and thrusting down like a piston. Senri’s cries only seemed to urge him on, the man’s eyes wide as he huffed like a bull. The new angle burned even more than the last, as Senri’s body was nearly folded in half. The man grabbed on to Senri’s bloody throat, pressing down and staring into Senri’s wide-open eyes. He didn’t stop staring, going as deep as he could down into Senri’s body, stiffened with the agony. The cock felt like it was tearing him open, pressing into his organs, a knife slashing and opening wounds that wouldn’t close. The pressure built until Senri felt his own dick twitch and release a stream of piss puddled in the concave of his twisted stomach. A gasp left him, weak and desperate. His breath pulled the vomit back into his lungs like fire, coughing wetly. The man growled, rage and hate twisting his features into a caricature. One hand left Senri’s throat to punch him in the face. Senri’s head snapped to the side, nose crunching and dripping. He couldn’t breathe. The spasms of pain around the man’s cock seemed to cause him great pleasure, as well as the pain and fear on Senri’s face. It was enough for the man to press deeply and cum. His thrusts tapered off and stopped, hips pressing and grinding into Senri. 

Senri struggled, the man’s orgasm caused him to press harder on Senri’s throat, but the weak hands grappling at his were paid no mind. Senri couldn’t feel the cum inside him, but he could feel the man’s cock pulsating through the pain of his wound. When he was finished, the man pulled out quickly as he’d pulled out the knife. He leaned in close, spitting on Senri’s face and into his open mouth, gasping for air as he released his grip and stood. He fixed his clothes, kicking him in the gut when his fly was secured. 

Senri didn’t dare move.

“Try modelling now, slut, see how well you do.” He laughed, satisfied. 

Then the other man picked Senri up, throwing him over his shoulder like an insignificant, weightless sack. The man’s strides bounced Senri a few short steps until he heard a metallic squeak and he was dropped down into a dark container.

His face was pressed into something foul-smelling but soft. The lid squealed again as it was shut. The impact jostled the thing, shaking its contents. Senri realised, before he passed out, that he’d been thrown away with the garbage.


End file.
